


I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)

by Swing Set in December (swing_set13)



Series: Lay All Your Love On Me [2]
Category: Ladyhawke (1985), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:32:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/pseuds/Swing%20Set%20in%20December
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's not ready to admit that he may be in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what Ladyhawke is. Except a film with a curse and Matthew Broderick is in it. So I'm ladyhawking up Teen Wolf. See that? I made up a word. Please let me know if this makes sense. Un-beta'd so be kind. And comments, I live for them. And look, I wrote a sequel. How even. And I have yet to see Ladyhawke.

Stiles is shucking off his clothes with a vengeance, the day will break soon and he'd rather not lose his favourite pair of trousers by getting caught in them. Derek is rather unhelpful about that usually. It's like he wants Stiles to wear his spare clothes. As ill fitting at that is. Stiles all but swims in the leather jacket that Derek favors. Stiles isn't a clothes horse like the knight. He only has a few garments. 

Stiles doesn't see the problem. He carries Derek's armor and sword all night and still nice enough to lay out his leather jacket. Stiles figures it's Derek's noble upbringing. 

But it's freezing out. 

The night's chill sending goose pimples up his arms as he rubs some warmth in them. Derek's still circling the edge of the meadow they came upon, ignoring Stiles' attempt at modesty. 

Stiles grumbles under is breath. If he looked half as cut as Derek, he wouldn't complain. He's actually happy that Derek is a now wolf, no competition in the abs department. It's any wonder why the knight bound himself to Stiles' sad fate. He could have been knee deep in courtesans. 

Or whatever. 

Maybe rescuing a princess. Well he did, but Stiles was already doing that with the whole self-sacrificing curse thing. So yeah. Standing next to Derek is a non-issue now. It was always quite intimidating before. 

Not that Stiles has been checking Derek out. 

No sirree. 

But hawks have good eyes. So yeah, just appraisal. And watching Derek's back. Nothing untoward. It's not like Stiles used to cut around the castle just to see Derek joust. Not him. Never.

"Try to be nice to the witch," says Stiles, covering the important bits with his balled up shirt when Derek trots back to Stiles. "I mean, no threats. Try to be knightly. Err, or less. I am not sure. But promise to smile."

Derek just huffs down next to Stiles, his body radiating warmth. 

"At least you have a fur coat, Sir Sour Wolf," sighs Stiles, leaning back into Derek's pelt when the wolf doesn't growl at him for invading his personal space. 

Stiles feels the first dapples of sunlight on his skin before his bones creak and hollow. The pain a distant memory as his wings take flight. 

\---

Derek scowls at the red head enchantress. A lady of the fifth kingdom, one where sorcery is revered. Lady Lydia comes with high esteem and may be their best chance at breaking the curse. Give him a dragon to slay rather than dealing with magic any day. The very air in tower makes his skin crawl. 

"I am guessing bird boy is the talker in the relationship," the lady says, aplomb, looking at Stiles who is perched on the windowsill. 

"The knight errant and his hawk, I must be the luckiest girl in all nine kingdoms."

"If you think me patient-" Derek bites out.

"Oh I think you are tragically romantic, knight," she says, her eyes dancing with hidden mirth. 

Stiles twitches on the sill and chirps inquiringly, offering Derek a wing of support.

"How precious," she smirks. "He doesn't know."

Derek growls, making the slip of a girl scowl.

"Take heed you're not a wolf now."

Stiles ventures further into the tower, taking one arching flight around the ceiling and Derek doesn't shake him off from his perch on Derek's shoulder when he settles there.

"Can you help?" Derek grits out, instead of letting her bait him.

The girl purses her lips fondly. "I can but-" she drawls looking him over shrewdly. 

Derek reaches for his sword but Stiles pecks at his ear none too gently which stills his hand on the hilt.

"He's a good influence," she hums thoughtfully, eyeing Stiles with too keen of interest that suits Derek. "Too bad he's not a prince. I always wanted to have a kingdom in my debt. Pity."

"He's a blacksmith," growls Derek. Stiles all but puffs up with pride and preens his wings outwardly, his speckled wing catching on Derek's armor. Derek's hand gently loosening it from the chain mail. 

"How adorable," she says dryly. "My payment is a feather."

Derek glares at her but she looks at Stiles. 

"No."

Derek's not going to hand over Stiles to this would-be lady. Never mind the speckled feather he has hanging under his chain mail, away from hawk eyesight, near his heart. A small token of his secret desire.

"No?" she drawls. "Hmmm, and what does your companion think?"

Stiles' weight shifts and he turns to Derek with an inquiring chirp. 

"You can't have him," Derek declares, his voice betraying him. 

"Wolves do tend to be possessive," she remarks idly. "Well, I could do with a new cauldron, would your blacksmith fashion me one?"

Stiles' wing brushes Derek's ear when Derek lapses into a stony silence. 

"On my honor," he says and Stiles preens at him. 

Lydia merely rolls her eyes before turning to the wall lined with books with a considering frown. 

"Well, these curses are not uncommon. A bishop once cursed two lovers. Griping tale, so I've heard. Have you tried the obvious?" she asks, looking back at him.

Derek stares at her. Stiles' head bobs to the side, his weight shifting on Derek's shoulder. 

Lydia sighs. "True love's kiss?" she rolls her eyes at them both. "Is the second kingdom populated by idiots?"

Derek shifts minutely and adjusts his scabbard. "I do not-"

"You do realize these curses don't work unless there's something there to work with? A balance needs to be upheld. If you weren't meant to be you wouldn't be in this situation. Curses love mucking up true love."

Derek feels a warm flush up his neck, the tower feels even more constricting. 

"Unless, you haven't told him?" she asks, dryly. 

Stiles' wings twitch and Derek can feel his keen gaze on him. 

"You should soon," she says. "In three days, there will be a day without a night and a night without a day. It's all horribly poetic."

Derek glares at the witch, her impish grin is a good focal point for his irritation. Stiles doesn't deserve to be tethered to Derek, he's seen too much blood to taint Stiles' soul with his own. Stiles deserves someone worthy of his loyalty. Not a knight who's soul is tarnished. And talking about feelings isn't going to make anything right. Not for a sorceress' amusement. His feelings are his own. Secret or otherwise. Derek would rather face off three dragons than talk about his feelings.

"Come now, a day when lovers can stand together," she says, like talking to an especially slow person. "That means you kiss him."

Derek's surprised when Stiles squawks in shock and he gets a face full of feathers. It's a small respite that Stiles knocks over a couple of candles and lights the drapes on fire. The chaos saves anyone from seeing the bewildered look Derek is sporting or the crimson flush his face is turning at the thought.


End file.
